Tag Archives: technology

When watching ski races, conversations with other racer parents, known or unknown, often go in fits and starts. We are all checking the start lists, refreshing Live-Timing on our phones for the last finish time, making sure we haven’t lost a glove, shivering and saying hello to people walking by. At Winter Park this weekend, another racer parent sat hunched over his phone, grumbling about the lack of internet service. “I’ve had good coverage here all season,” he says to me or to no one in particular. “I guess the crowds are eating up all the bandwidth.”

I looked over at the excessively long lift line of President’s Day weekend skiers and shrugged. He was probably right. That or the clouds were in the way. He was trying to get the results of the first run of the men’s World Championship slalom race. He finally got some coverage and expressed frustration that the page, slow loading as it was, didn’t have what he was looking for. “I’m sort of over my phone,” I said. A wry smile crossed his lips. “Yeah. It’s almost too much to keep up with. And it’s so annoying when I can’t get a signal. When it works, there is always something to check on or download or whatever. I get a little overwhelmed with it sometimes.”

And there it is. Maybe it’s generational and just us middle-agers feel this way. I mean, most people who are a decade or two older never really plugged into the constant-on of technology. I think it’s still the norm for my mom to leave her (non-smart) cell phone off unless she is going to make a call. I’m not sure she’s ever sent a text. Dad doesn’t have a cell phone. But it’s all good for them. They use what they want how they want and who gives a crap if they never learned how to turn on a cell phone. The younger generations, X, Y, millenials, whatever-they-are-called-past-that, they grew up with this constant information availability. The expectation to be checking in all the time is just normal rather than overwhelming.

I’m also over the tangled or too-short power cords, ear buds that go missing, quickly depleting battery, and the messages from AT&T that my data usage is about to exceed the plan that I was assured would be more than sufficient for our family of three. Don’t even get me started on trying to figure out what the best “deals” are, or that my phone, which is less than two years old, is already decrepit in its technology, or that the power cord from my even older iPad no longer works to charge my iPhone.

I don’t have the job of a senior manager any more. I’m not expected (not that this should be the expectation for our professionals, even though it is) to check email or voice mail or whatever 24×7. But I still do. It’s a weird obsession that has me a little concerned, frankly.

There are those who take technology vacations. They turn off their phone and unplug their computer for a day, a week or a month, and “find themselves” again. They become the free, unconnected people we were born to be. I haven’t been able to do this. I think I have some sort of subconscious fear that when I find myself, I will be irrelevant and boring. Not that anyone will notice; they are all too busy checking their phones.

Whatever. I’m certainly not alone, as evidenced by Mr. Grumbly Pants next to me on Sunday. Maybe I’ll create an I’m Over My Phone support group app. Download and it’ll drain your battery like nobody’s business and message you several times a day to remind you that your obnoxious phone is taking over your life.

Remember the first time you had to come up with an online password and it was your birthday so you could always remember it? Remember when your password didn’t expire? Remember when you only had one?

Remember when cell phones didn’t exist? Or when they were so expensive to use you didn’t dare, so they sat there dead and no one cared? Now it goes dead, almost as soon as it’s unplugged, and you’re completely cut off from . . . something really important I’m sure.

Remember when you just went to the bank to do anything that had to do with money? When men were men and checks were checks?

Remember when you could call customer service and talk to someone who lived in your hemisphere? Who you could ask to speak to a supervisor and they didn’t hang up on you?

Remember when you could just go to the pharmacy and refill the prescription that you take every day and will take for the rest of your life? Now you get your drugs through the mail in 90 day chunks. A challenge when the on-line pharmacy doesn’t list you with the rest of your family, even though you’re the only one who has ever gotten a prescription filled since the insurance coverage started.

Sometimes I spend all morning working very hard at accomplishing absolutely nothing.